


Chasing the North

by likebunnies



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Episode: s02e18 Tempus Fugit, F/M, Fix-It, It's all AU now!, Post-Season/Series 02 AU, Season/Series 02, Slow Burn, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-09 15:31:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14718776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likebunnies/pseuds/likebunnies
Summary: Grace Dixon's Abiero spell didn't quite work like they had hoped. Abbie is now stuck in 1781 with Captain Ichabod Crane while Katrina and the Horseman have vanished. They have to travel north to find help but will Abbie be able to make it with this Crane who is not her Crane?





	1. Trebuchet

**Author's Note:**

> I started this in 2015. I did once post the first part but then took it down. It was supposed to be longer than this. Was supposed to show what was happening in two times. Then life happened! A lot of life happened. I have finally finished this and thought I'd share. Ignore the various time travel plot holes. Enjoy my 50th Sleepy Hollow story I've posted on AO3!

Abbie wondered if this was how it felt to die. She wouldn't exactly call herself an expert on near-death experiences even though she had been close enough to hear the grim reaper knocking a few times. Even so, she had never heard mention of a force grabbing on and tugging at your shoulders so hard that you might topple over. 

Instead, she had heard about peaceful images and dead loved ones and bright lights and she had all that going on right now yet something deep inside told her she wasn't dying. Not yet, anyway. She was traveling back – or forward to be more precise. Away from this era where she didn't belong and to the one where she did. She was going to make everything right again. 

Then with a lurching halt, the images stopped going backward and were now going in the reverse direction quickly, to this very moment. It started to hurt, like she was being slung from a giant trebuchet and was heading toward the floor way too fast. Which she was. Abbie’s head hit the wooden planks with an echoing thump and she curled up into a protective ball. The images had stopped but were replaced with a blinding light. 

She couldn't focus. 

She had to focus. Had to figure this out. 

“What happened? Why didn't it work? Oh, shit! Crane!” Abbie said, rubbing her eyes and trying to get the popping stars to stop while scrambling to get up from the floor. Her head was pounding and the side of her body she landed on ached. 

Grace Dixon was quickly shuffling through her journal as Abbie finally managed to stand and run to the window, expecting to find her fellow Witness in two pieces, dead on the lawn of Fredericks Manor. She swallowed hard, preparing herself to find him separated from his head and she wasn't sure she could face that image one more time in her life. She scanned the area and was surprised to find him quite alive, sitting back on his heels, and looking as puzzled as she was. Where in the hell was Katrina? And the horseman? His horse was still there, looking at her with his fiery eyes but his rider was gone. He was standing calmly on his reins, pawing a hoof at the ground. 

“Abigail, I can't explain what went wrong. I have no idea. We followed everything exactly,” Grace said, still searching for the answer in her journal.

“Katrina and the horseman are gone,” Abbie told her. 

“And Captain Crane?” Grace asked, her voice not hiding her fear of the answer. 

“I”m going to go check on him. I'll be right back,” Abbie said, hurrying out the door. “Crane – Captain Crane! Are you okay?”

“Yes, I'm fine. What happened? Where is my wife?” he asked as he stood up slowly, straightening out his coat when he was finally upright and dusting himself off. 

“Grace is trying to figure that out right now. I don't know where it went wrong but Katrina and the Hessian are gone. Christ, if they're in 2015... what a mess. And I thought things were off the rails before. Damn,” Abbie said with a nervous laugh even though she really wanted to cry. 

Here she was stuck in 1781 with someone who wasn't her Crane and now his witch of a wife and a killer with an ax might be back in Sleepy Hollow. How many ways could this bit of traveling through time have messed up everything? Clearly she still existed. A black woman in 18th century America. She knew that there would be temporary sanctuary at Fredericks Manor but she assaulted an officer. Crane was a deserter now. This was a disaster. 

And there was the matter of beheaded Ben Franklin.

He secured the enormous white horse before they returned to the house together in silence. Grace was looking through more of her books, still trying to puzzle out how things went so terribly wrong. 

“I'm so glad you're alive, Captain Crane,” she said, looking from him to Abbie and back again. Abbie could tell that the news wasn't going to be good. That there wasn't going to be another chance at setting this right tonight.

“Please explain what happened, Mrs. Dixon. Where is Mrs. Crane?” Captain Crane asked. 

“Please, sit down. I'll make some tea and try to explain what I think happened,” Grace said, gesturing to the table. Abbie and Crane both took seats around the small table that was still covered in the herbs and flowers that had been needed to cast the spell. Grace moved quietly around the kitchen, putting the kettle over the fire. She brought them some bread and butter and Abbie realized it had been quite a long time since she had eaten anything. She nibbled on the bread, so different than the bagged mass produced stuff she was used to, and looked at Crane. He was staring at her, his head cocked to one side, eyebrow arched, as if he was waiting for her to have some magic answer about how to fix this predicament. Grace returned and poured tea for both of them and then sat down at the table. 

“Thank you for the food,” Abbie said, eating more of the bread Grace had set before them. Crane still didn't move. Still sat there watching her. 

“You are welcome. The best answer I have for you right now about why the Abiero spell didn't work is that Mrs. Crane countered it in some way,” Grace started but Abbie interrupted her. 

“How can that be?” she asked. She really wanted to tell her that Katrina had never been that powerful of a witch until the last few days and what was up with that? But she looked at Crane... Captain Crane... and thought better of it. She'd wait until morning to hit him with more hard truths about his wife. 

“I saw that she had a book with her. What was it?” Grace asked. 

“The Grand Grimoire,” Abbie answered, starting to put the pieces together. Somehow the book in Katrina's hand had stopped Abbie from returning and sent Katrina back, now pregnant with Crane's child. He was going to be there on her return. She would use this and twist him into doing whatever she wanted. She always could. 

“That explains a great deal. That book is so powerful, more powerful than she could handle. It might have been working on its own, protecting the witch that possessed it. Katrina might not remember any of this upon her return. She might remember all of it. As for the horseman, he could be anywhere in time or just somewhere in Sleepy Hollow. I'm not sure how she managed to pull him forward in time with her,” Grace said, sounding guilty even though she shouldn't. 

Abbie certainly didn't think that this whole thing was 100% guaranteed and Crane... fuck... Captain Crane... she was going to have to think of him that way to keep herself from thinking of him as her Crane... he was barely convinced of the time travel story in the first place. From his expression, he probably still thought she was some spy practicing witchcraft, selfies from the future or not. He had to believe her. Without him and Grace, she was screwed. 

It was all starting to set in. She was trapped here, in a time she only knew from books and movies and paintings and her Crane. Franklin was still dead. She would be blamed. Crane... goddammit... Captain Crane would be blamed. Now she knew how Crane felt when he woke up in the cave and discovered it was 2013. Except no one threatened him with an encampment or auction. Just a nice, clean psychiatric hospital. She'd take that right now. She'd take anything in 2015 right now. 

“What now?” Captain Crane asked, breaking his silence. He still was looking at Abbie as if this was her fault and not the fault of his wife. 

“No one will be returning to the house tonight. When they arrive tomorrow, we'll find out more about what's going on in the village. You'll be able to start putting a plan together then. The wards are back up on the house so it will be safe. I suggest you eat something and get some sleep while no one is looking for either of you here,” Grace said, standing up and bringing more food to the table. When she was done, she wiped her hands on her apron and looked at Abbie and Captain Crane. “I'll go prepare rooms for your stay.”

“I'll help you,” Abbie said, going to stand. Grace did something by the fire while she assured her that she could do the job and that she should stay in the kitchen and eat something. Abbie did just that while Captain Crane stood and looked around for a stronger beverage. He brought a bottle of bourbon and a bottle of rum to the table and poured himself the rum, swallowing it in one gulp before pouring more. 

“What now... Lieutenant.”

He didn't say her nickname in an endearing manner at all. If someone could have sneered a word, Abbie would’ve said he just did. 

“We're going to figure this out. We always do. We always find a way and we fix things,” she said. She stopped herself from reaching out to touch his hand. She wasn't sure how they could fix things or why he was so mad at her. That wasn't true. She knew that his world was just turned upside down in a short period but had she not arrived here with Katrina, he'd be dead. Not stuck in a cave to be resurrected some day but dead. 

“I fear any allies I have will have turned against me by now and if they haven't, I don't know how to get to them. General Washington would be the best but after the incident at Mr. Franklin's house, I might never be allowed near him again,” Captain Crane said, pouring himself yet one more drink. He offered her the bottle and she took it from him, pouring herself a drink in the now empty tea cup, trying hard not to think of the lives that might have gone into making this one bottle of rum. It was far stronger than anything she was used to, even the horrible concoctions Jenny could come up with. She poured herself another. 

“If only the Grand Grimoire had stayed here we might have a chance. I'm going to have to talk to Grace about a few things. She might have an idea where we can find others with enough power to fix this,” Abbie said, her mind still spinning with ideas despite the drink. 

“Others?” 

“Other witches. Different kinds of spells. Surely you've caught onto what it is that Washington... General Washington is doing, right? The Crane I know isn't that obtuse,” she said, her tongue loosening up with the late hour and the rum. 

“The General and I have obviously not discussed witchcraft,” he said. 

“Well, that's unfortunate. Someone should have clued you in,” Abbie said before she could stop herself. 

“You're right. Someone should have told me but it's too late for that. I don't know my role in all of this beyond what you have told me and what little I have gleaned from my missions for the General. So tell me more, Miss Mills. Make it so I'm not so obtuse,” Captain Crane said, finally taking some bread and eating something to go with all the alcohol he had consumed. Then he poured himself yet another drink. 

Before she got the chance to tell him anything, Grace returned to the kitchen. She set down the lantern and put a gentle hand on Abbie's shoulder. “I'll show you to your room now, Abigail. You both need some sleep before making other plans. I'll be back shortly to show you your room, Captain Crane. And I have some things I need to discuss with you before anyone else arrives at the house tomorrow morning.” 

Abbie bid the Captain good night and he merely nodded in her direction. She followed Grace through the house, her ancestor carrying a lantern in front of her. More little things were starting to hit Abbie. There was no switch to flick and turn on the lights. No heat beyond a fire and blankets. No phone. No internet with an easy answer and quick directions. No 24-hours of constant news. Night was dark and silent and scary. 

Life during this time was going to be difficult and she didn’t know if she could count on the man who would one day be her partner to stick with her through it all. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Grace spent a long time in Abbie’s room, explaining as much to her as she could. The bed warmer. The pitcher filled with water with which to wash. The night clothing she was going to have wear now that was going to be way too big. The pieces of clothing she was going to have to wear in the morning, including the head covering. 

Abbie touched the ends of her hair, thinking of all the things she would no longer be able to do to keep it looking like this. She laughed at such a ridiculous concern. She was trapped in another world and on the run and she was worried about her hair. 

At least she was vaccinated unlike when Crane popped out in 2013. Except for smallpox since they stopped that well before she was born. Now that was something to actually worry about. That and what she could infect these people with. She’d just have to hope for the best on that one since it was too late now and she was pretty sure the CDC wasn’t showing up with a quarantine. 

Every thought like that made Abbie laugh a little panic-stricken giggle of disbelief and Grace would try to calm her with soothing words the best she could. 

“Captain Crane is an honorable man. You will be safe with him whatever happens next,” Grace said, sitting beside her on the edge of this thing they called a bed. Abbie never missed her pillow top mattress she splurged on more than she did right now. “He will never let anything happen to you.”

“I... I know,” Abbie said, unsure if that was really the case or not. This was a different time than her Crane had woken up in and so many things could happen. She had an easier time protecting him, whether he wanted her protection or not, in the 21st century than he was going to have in this time and place. He had been so willing to take her to the encampment earlier. Had she earned his trust since then? He still wasn’t her Crane. 

Her Crane. She could only imagine what was happening to him now. 

“You knew he was the other Witness. You sensed it before I ever arrived here, didn't you?” Abbie asked. Grace nodded. 

“I have many things I must discuss with him yet tonight before the others arrive in the morning. I will wake you early to help you prepare for the day,” Grace said. She put her rough hand on Abbie’s smooth arm and Abbie realize just how much work Grace must do around here, even if she wanted to be here. “Are you certain you will be all right for the night?”

“I’ll be fine,” Abbie answered, giving Grace the most convincing smile she could. Grace bid her a goodnight, picked up her lantern, and left the room. It was now lit by a single tallow candle that emitted more smoke than light. Abbie put on the stiff white nightgown, crawled under the patchwork quilt, blew out the candle, and cried. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

“Are you comfortable?” Grace asked as she tried to adjust Abbie’s dress so it would fit slightly better. Without a sewing machine and a few inches hacked off the bottom, Abbie was unsure how it would ever fit better. 

“No heavy corset I assume?” Abbie asked, her hands running over the course blue fabric. She already knew the answer. A lady with that kind of dress was not the role she would be playing in this world. Grace shook her head and then sat behind her at the small dressing table, helping Abbie wrap her hair up for the day in what seemed like way too much fabric. While they worked together on it, Abbie learning how it should be tucked to stay in place, Grace explained a few things she had discussed with Captain Crane the night before. This was real. This was happening to her. She was going to have to live with whatever came next and she couldn’t walk out of this room looking like she was afraid of anything.

When she finished dressing, they descended the back staircase to the kitchen. Abbie stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing the number of unfamiliar men gathered there, many crammed in around the small table, and then she moved forward, silently reminding herself to be in control of the situation. She had several centuries more information tucked away in her brain than any of them. She was the most knowledgeable person in the room and she wouldn’t let them take that away from her. 

Captain Crane was the only man she recognized, still dressed in his crisp blue uniform. He offered her a reassuring nod. At least it was more than he was offering last night which was just a look of dismay. Or contempt. Probably both. 

“Miss Mills,” he said, standing to offer her his chair. Someone placed a hand on Captain Crane’s arm, stopping him. 

“Be careful out there, Captain. Yes, you are safe here but the rest of the world will not necessarily be so kind if you make any mistakes,” the man said and Abbie’s mouth dropped open. When he moved his hand away, Crane stepped aside to let Abbie take a seat. 

“Civility is never a mistake,” Crane said. He paced restlessly behind her as she slid into place, struggling to get her chair tucked in with her petticoat in the way. He finally stopped and helped her before renewing his pacing again. Captain Crane obviously knew more about what was happening then she did based on his sudden nervousness. 

“Miss Mills, we are glad you could join us even if it is under these strange circumstances. The two Witnesses together from a different time and place, as you can imagine, is something nearly impossible to accomplish but was ultimately our goal. Now we just have to get you back to the right time and place and with the captain in the era where you are needed together,” an older white man said. He wasn’t wearing a uniform and Abbie looked him up and down. 

“And you are?” she asked, then remembered her usual manners, tacking a ‘sir’ onto the end. 

“My name is Lachlan Fredericks, Miss Mills. I am your host for now,” he said. Abbie tried to remember everything her Crane had said about him and her eyes darted away. He was supposed to die when Jeremy Crane was born had everything not been changed. She didn’t want to remember all these things. Didn’t want to slip up and say something she shouldn’t. Something that would make them keep the timeline like this. “Don’t worry. We are still trying to set things right.”

“How is that even possible at this point? Mr. Franklin is–” Abbie started before a man in uniform interrupted her. 

“There is someone else, more powerful than Mrs. Dixon. Far more powerful than Mrs. Crane and Mr. Fredericks. Her coven is trained well in this sort of magic. Powerful magic that bends time. But you have to travel to get to her and her sisters and hope they are in a position to help you get home. And then to help with other matters,” he said, looking in Crane's direction. 

“Travel to where?” Abbie asked, immediately worried about leaving the relative safety of Sleepy Hollow and Fredericks Manor. She looked to Captain Crane, who didn’t look much happier about the idea. Abbie knew she could hold her own and she had proven that with Colonel Sutton but this still wasn’t her world. This was Crane’s world... not her Crane but this Crane who she’d have to get to know. He’d have to get to know her. They would have to learn to be partners all over again. 

“You'll have to get safely to Montreal.”

Abbie’s mind scanned quickly through her American history knowledge trying to remember exactly what nation held any part of Canada during this year. Her guess was Britain had plenty of territory between here and there and she suddenly missed Google a whole lot. Captain Crane was a turncoat. And a deserter. And they were both going to be hanged if they were caught. Or worse. 

But she had to do whatever had to be done to set this all straight. She would fix this and he would help her. Plus, Montreal had to be better than if they would have to travel south. 

“And you are?” Abbie asked as soon as her mind was focused on what was happening at this table. 

“A close aide to General Washington,” the young man answered, his blue eyes looking over Abbie to Captain Crane. Abbie couldn’t tell if they knew each other at all before this day. Didn't know which one might really be Washington's favorite. “That’s all you need to know right now.”

“How are we supposed to get to Montreal? I’m going to guess that this isn’t a quick drive up the interstate? No trains? Planes? Nothing but some horses,” Abbie said and they all looked at her as if she was speaking gibberish. 

“Plans are being made. Fortunately, Captain Crane has a good relationship with various populations between here and there. We will help in whatever way we can but since many in the army assume you had a hand in the death of Colonel Sutton...”

“The what now... what death? He wasn’t dead when I left him!” Abbie said, panicking. 

“He was found dead after he went to get his wounds treated.”

“Katrina,” Abbie said. Captain Crane stopped pacing behind her. “This situation is getting worse by the minute.”

“I can’t guarantee your protection here for much longer. The two of you will have to move on tomorrow morning. We will spend the rest of today working on a feasible plan that should assure your safety... to a degree. Proper paperwork will have to be created,” Mr. Fredericks said. 

“We are already working on that. I know some wonderful forgers,” Washington’s aide said. Abbie wanted to ask why Washington wasn’t here to offer Captain Crane protection. He was the man in charge, after all. She really did always assume Crane was his shining star. Or was he too busy dealing with their recent losses? 

“What about the, er, problem concerning Franklin?” Abbie asked. Like Captain Crane had said, he was their leading statesman. And what hadn’t he invented yet? She didn’t have any clue. 

Everyone at the table remained silent. Surely there had to be some backup plan if one of the so-called “founding fathers” lost his life, right? Crane spoke of them as if they were immortal gods but she knew better. She had the hindsight of history on her side. 

“The most important thing right now is getting the two of you somewhere safe and where this can all be set right again. You truly have to get to Montreal as quickly as you can,” another man in uniform said. None of them seemed eager to introduce themselves to her. Maybe she would ask Captain Crane about them when she had the chance. 

Abbie watched as Grace served tea to all the men around the table. Her eyes would meet Abbie’s and it was calming. Far more calming than Crane’s incessant pacing behind her. 

“What if we fail?” he asked, still moving about. 

“That’s can’t happen,” Mr. Fredericks said. “It simply can’t. The timeline must be repaired.”

“So, failure is not an option,” Abbie said, laughing at her movie quote. No one else said anything. 

“No, Miss Mills. It is indeed not an option. But we all believe in you,” a young black man said. He had been standing next to the fireplace. Grace went to his side and put her hand on his arm. This must be Joseph Dixon, Grace’s husband. If they were able to fix all of this, a lot of these people didn’t have very many more years of life left. That thought made Abbie choke up and she fought back the tears. 

“Well, obviously we don’t fail. Because I’m here. If we failed, would I be here?” she asked. They all look puzzled. Perhaps they didn’t fully understand causal loops or the grandfather paradox and they sure as hell hadn’t ever seen Doctor Who or Back to the Future. She was going to continue believing that her being here was a good sign. Everything had to have been fixed. It was all she really had to hold on to at the moment. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

She found him standing in the stables, looking at the large white horse that was now theirs. Crane was still in his uniform for the time being but she knew he wouldn't be able to travel like that. Too many people would be looking for them. Abbie lifted the hem of her skirts out of the dirt, still getting adjusted to dealing with so much fabric around her feet. Still wishing she could just wear her boots. She would take her clothing with her, hidden away, in case she did find a way to return home. She couldn't leave all that man-made material and zippers here in the past. 

“Miss Mills,” he said without looking her way. 

Abbie stood beside him and cautiously stroked the nose of horseman's steed. He nickered at her and let her continue to pet him, seemingly enjoying her touch. 

“Captain.” 

She wasn't sure what he was going to say to her, if anything at all. Was he going to be like he was last night or was he going to be like he was around all those other people this morning, offering her a chair and being somewhat civil? Even though she had explained to him earlier that they were friends in a different time and place, a lot had happened since then. And he still wasn't her Crane. 

“We will have to set off at dawn. Will you be prepared by then?” he asked. As if she had a choice. 

“Yes, of course I'll be ready, Captain. I've faced a lot of things in my life and I'll get through this,” she said. He remained silent. “You aren't going to have to babysit me. I can take care of myself. I'm not some fragile doll. I think you've already seen that with that monster back in the jail cell.”

He finally turned to look at her as he picked through her words. She had forgot about the whole gibberish thing. Her Crane had picked up 21st century vocabulary relatively quickly and she knew this Crane would do the same. 

“I wasn't doubting your ability to take care of yourself, Miss Mills, but do remember this is a different time even if it is the same place. As much as your world has changed, this world isn't ready for such changes yet,” Captain Crane said to her. 

“Hmm,” Abbie mumbled, knowing exactly what he meant. She hoped they would manage to make this trip without crossing the paths of too many other people. She didn't want to have to play the role of 18th century black woman, subservient to this man she was with.

She closed her eyes and remembered there was a reality out there somewhere and in that reality, they were partners. They had their troubles but they always got through everything together. And she could do that with this version of her partner. 

She would have to. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^


	2. The Captain

This was going horribly. Abbie was tired, her feet hurt, and it wouldn't stop raining. Her skirt was soaked in mud up to her knees and she was fighting the urge to give up and cry and it was only their first day on the trail. If one could even call this a trail. It was presently wide enough of a path through the woods for them and the horse. 

It didn't help that Captain Crane was in no better mood than she was. At least he was used to horses and mud and rain and no fucking toilet to use. Squatting while hiding behind a tree was getting old fast. Thank goodness for birth control that kept her period from happening during all of this. That would be enough to break her. She swore she wasn't going to be here long enough to figure out how to deal with that mess. 

At least she hoped she wouldn't be here that long. She hoped and she prayed. 

She also hoped and prayed no one found her birth control implant in her arm and accused her of witchcraft. She laughed out loud at that thought and Crane turned to her briefly, a quizzical look on his face. 

The white horse was packed with their gear and they were going to make this journey on foot. Abbie would give up nearly everything right now to have her running shoes or a good pair of hiking boots and some comfortable woolen socks. And her North Face raincoat that had cost her so much and was now hanging in her closet in another century. 

Crane was picking his way through the path ahead of her, wearing some outfit that made him look like he belonged on the frontier. Then again, maybe this was the frontier. He had shaved and his baby-faced appearance made her laugh the first time she saw him without his beard. He was not amused by her reaction but he looked a good ten years younger. His hair was different, too. Not pulled back. He didn't look like the Captain Crane she had just met a few days ago but more like the Crane she had left behind. The one who was just starting to let go a little and wear his hair down. Starting to relax.

She had to remind herself again and again this was not her Crane. This man would be her Crane in a few centuries but right now, he was not. He was not relaxed around her at all and he'd give her that look every time she casually called him Crane and not Captain Crane or Captain. 

Her Crane never shut up and this version – he had said five sentences to her since they began their journey. She wasn't going to put up with that. She'd withstand the mud and the bad shoes but she wasn't going to follow along silently. 

“Captain Crane, tell me about your mother,” she said as soon as she caught up with him. He looked at her, an eyebrow raised, and then looked straight ahead without saying a word. “I'd like to know about her.”

“Surely if we are friends as you say we are, you already know about her,” he said. “Maybe you even know more than I do about my family.”

Abbie considered this for a moment and realized it was possibly true. Yet, during their time together, he rarely brought up his mother. 

“So, what do you remember about your mother?” Abbie asked again. They walked along together for several minutes before he answered. 

“She loved me beyond reason.”

That was all he said. Nothing more. Abbie wanted more. One could say most mothers loved their children beyond reason. She didn't even know his mother's name. She remembered him mentioning once that his father's name was Thomas but nothing else. She went to ask more but the look on his face silenced her. Now wasn't a good time. 

Still, they were going to have plenty of time together. And she wasn't about to stop asking questions. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Abbie spent a lot of time wandering and wondering what she would be doing had the spell worked. What would be happening at home? What was happening at home because the spell didn't work? Except for Katrina. It worked for her. Abbie's stomach churned thinking about pregnant Katrina and the pull she'd have over Crane. 

He was always giving her the benefit of the doubt, always looking for good in her or hoping that things could be the way they once were. Like he was desperate to set right a mistake he made but Abbie wasn't sure what it might have been. Her Crane did everything he could for that woman who was his wife. And now, she could only imagine. This had to be fixed. Entirely restored. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked, shaking her from her thoughts. She shrugged her shoulders. The thought of more hardtack and dried meat was not appealing and she would do just about anything right now for a fresh salad and a hot cup of coffee. “You need nourishment. I know it's not this Stars and Buck that you've been mumbling about but you have to eat.”

“Starbucks,” she corrected. He nodded politely and pulled the horse to a stop, giving him plenty of room to graze on some green spring grass. The horse was well behaved considering who it belonged to and waited patiently for Crane to find their provisions and set them up in what could almost be considered a picnic. Abbie sat down on the damp ground and he handed her a bit of bread that had been wrapped in a cloth. They didn't have much of that left and she was going to miss it when it was gone. “You really like the baked goods in the 21st century.”

“Do I?” he asked, taking a bite of his own chunk of bread. 

“You really do,” she said, smiling at one of her earliest memories of her Crane. This Crane was studying her as she ate, thinking she didn't notice. She still had her hair wrapped up and was in the same muddy skirt but at least everything was drier today. They were a little closer to their destination and the chance to set everything right. He looked away when she looked at him. He looked a little older since his stubble had begun to grow in and she really missed the Captain look but she was actually quite impressed with his survival skills out here in the wild. 

The night before he had made a stew over the fire with their day's rations of dried meat and beans. He had found 'fresh' water and listened to all the reasons he needed to boil it before she was going to drink it. He had offered her bourbon after dinner but she didn't think that was a good idea. He had set up their shelters and respected her privacy when her stomach had had enough of dried everything and she thought she might just die out in the woods. 

“Why do you want to know about my mother?” Crane asked out of the blue. 

“You never talk about her. Was she still alive when you came to America? Do you have siblings? Do you miss your family?” Abbie asked, trying to get in as many questions as possible while he was in an affable mood. He said nothing for a while and she was afraid he'd never answer her. 

“My father was a very demanding man. He was demanding of his children... yes, I have two brothers and a sister. He was demanding of the help. He was demanding of my mother, not treating her much better than the help. He was devastated when I decided to come to the colonies instead of staying at Oxford. My mother defended me and my decision and he forbade her to ever speak to me again. Thus, I do not know if she is alive or not,” Crane said. Abbie didn't know what to say. She knew a whole lot about Crane, his wife, and his kid but this was the most she had ever heard him say about his parents. “She loved me and defended me and everything I was and I will never know if she is in good health or not.”

After that statement, he stood up and started gathering the few items he had unpacked. He offered her water out of the wooden canteen and she took a sip, still missing the taste of plastic she had grown accustomed to with water. He took a sip after her and she was still surprised that he hadn't demanded his own canteen. It seemed oddly intimate. Familiar. Or maybe he was just used to a different life where not everyone had their own... everything. Own car. Own bottle of water. Own bathroom sink. 

“Perhaps someday you'll find out about her,” Abbie said, wishing he'd just keep talking about something. She knew he was hurt by what had happened but she missed hearing Crane carry on about everything. Maybe if she could get him started on one good rant, she'd feel more at home. More comfortable. Or maybe she just wanted him to feel more comfortable? 

What she wanted was her Crane. And he was a long way from here. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

A hot bath. A cold beer. Chinese take-out. Baseball on the TV. A fluffy towel. French fries. 

With every step Abbie took, she thought of something else she missed. Something else she might never experience again if this journey didn't pan out. Not just the frivolous things like fast food and wearing a bikini on the beach. Her job. Her sister. Her life. Everything she ever knew. Everything besides Crane. He was technically here, ten feet ahead of her. 

He was also beginning to look tired on this journey, even if he was used to this kind of life as a soldier. This wasn't a normal march. No, like everything else they got involved in, this was some quest to make everything right again. To save the world. 

She turned her head for just a second, her thoughts wandering to how many black bears lived in this area at this time, and when she looked back, Crane was on the ground clutching his ankle. He had dropped the reins but the horse was standing beside him, waiting patiently. 

“Crane! Are you okay?” she asked, rushing to his side. She wasn't sure how he had injured himself but he had to be in some pain to be carrying on like he was. 

“I got caught on a root. Turned my ankle,” he said when he could finally catch his breath. “Oh, hell. This is poor timing.”

She knelt beside him and he was taken aback when she reached for him. “Oh, stop. I have to look,” she said. He winced when she tugged at his boot so she slowed down and gently got it off of him, setting it aside. “Good thing you have sturdy boots or it could have been worse. Stocking, please.”

“Miss Mills...” 

“Captain Crane, I can assure you I've seen more than just a gentleman's ankle in my life. We're going to have to wrap this up and get you some more support if we're going to keep going,” Abbie said. He fussed around with his breeches and managed to get the stocking rolled down and off his foot. His ankle was already bruising and she was sure it would be a nasty shade of purple in no time. “If only we had some ice.” 

“We are nowhere near...”

“I know, I know... ice is common in my time. Mostly in our drinks. Our fridge's have ice makers,” she said. 

“Your... what?” 

“Never mind. Let's get this wrapped up and see if you can continue walking,” Abbie said, trying to figure out what she could use for his ankle. She put her hand up to the cloth covering her hair and figured that would be long enough yet not too thick. Unwinding it, she could only imagine what her hair looked like underneath. 

She folded the cloth and began to wrap it around his injured ankle, being as careful as she possibly could be not to do more damage before it was stabilized. It wasn't an ACE bandage but it would do. She got the one end tucked neatly in and made sure it wasn't too tight and looked up at Crane to see if he was okay. 

He was staring at her intently, fascinated by something. Was he looking at her hair now that it was down? She touched it self-consciously, realizing it wasn't as bad as she thought. He reached up and lightly brushed the end of her hair and pulled his hand away quickly. She wasn't sure what to say. She didn't appreciate people touching her or her hair but this was Crane, right? Crane who would one day hug her and hold her and cradle her head in his hands?

She was confused and judging by the expression on his face, so was he. Moving away from him, she considered that he was as unsure of what they were as she was. 

“Crane...” she started to say and he gave her that look again. She let out a gentle sigh. 

“Miss Mills,” he said, as if trying to grab back some bit of control in this situation. 

“Captain Crane, sir. Can you walk?” she asked, punctuating the 'sir' with enough sass to change his expression immediately. 

He reached for his stocking and his boot, wincing as he pulled both back on, and she helped him up from the ground. 

“We can repack the horse if you'll need to ride instead of walk,” she offered. He shook his head in a definite 'no' but the first few steps he took were very, very tentative. “Or we can stop for the night soon. Let it heal a little before you injure it permanently.”

“I assure you I will be fine.” 

They made their way on the narrow trail for another hour or so before he was no longer fine. He sat down on the remains of the fallen tree in a clearing, stretching his injured leg out in front of him. She knew it was going to be up to her to unpack the horse and set up camp that night, which was unfortunate because he was really a lot better at it than she was. He could craft each of them a lean-to in a short time and she... couldn't. She looked around them, sizing up the clearing, and silently prayed it didn't get too cold tonight. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Abbie was uncomfortable. She prepared them something that could be considered a meal and had kept the fire going but it was still a cold and damp night. Their shelters were put together the best she could but it's not like she had a lot of practice in wilderness survival and she was just tired of living out of doors and sleeping on a ground cloth. Captain Crane didn't look well and it didn't take much to convince him that she was perfectly capable of taking care of everything for a night or for as long as it took for him to get back on both feet. She heard him tossing and turning and mumbling something in his sleep and thought it would be best if she checked on him. 

“Captain, you okay?” she asked and he mumbled something else. All they had for pain relief was bourbon and some medicinal herbs Grace had packed. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do with the herbs but her guess was make a tea so she did, pouring in a dash of bourbon, too. It didn't smell great but hopefully he'd be able to rest after drinking it. 

“Hey, wake up. I made this for the pain. It's from that stuff Grace packed for us,” she said, helping him sit up enough to drink. He choked on the first sip and tried to push away the cup but she made him drink more, explaining once again that Grace had made sure they had it in case either of them got injured. He sipped more and put his head back down. 

“It's not your job to take care of me,” he said and she fought to contain her laughter, thinking of her Crane and all she had to do for him. 

“We take care of each other,” she said, feeling his forehead. He was warmer than he should be in the weather and she hoped he wasn't getting sick on top of the injury. There was no matzoh ball soup anywhere nearby. 

“Your hands are freezing, Miss Mills,” he said when she pulled away from him. 

“And you're burning up. Please don't get sick on me now,” she said and he shrugged, looking at her with glassy eyes. 

If something did happen to him, all would be lost. She would surely die out here in the woods or worse... she didn't even want to think about it. Couldn't imagine losing whatever version of Crane she was with. And history? Changed forever, good or bad. 

She moved closer to him and quickly touched his forehead once more. He wasn't going to get cooler in 30 seconds. She hoped the tea had something in it that would break the fever and kill the pain. She'd have to have faith that Grace was an expert in this area. 

Abbie knew she should put out the campfire but didn't want to be alone in the dark. She wasn't alone, she reminded herself, curling up on the groundcloth near him, she watched Crane breathe in and out, gently putting her hand on him to remind herself she wasn't alone in this. 

He put his hand over hers and mumbled something about ramparts and batteries and she had no idea what could be going on in his fevered dreams right now. She closed her eyes, feeling more secure with him nearby. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

She woke up a lot warmer than she expected to be. Very warm, very comfortable, and very, very not alone. His arm was around her, his hand across her abdomen, pulling her close, and even through her skirt and petticoats, she could feel he was aroused. Curiosity got the better of Abbie and she didn't move right away, enjoying the feel of him close to her. The warmth of him. This moment she had to confess she had imagined with her Crane before guilt forced her to push those thoughts aside. 

Curiosity and other things waned and she soon was trying to figure out how to escape this predicament without embarrassing the Captain. 

It was too late. He woke up with a start and immediately pulled away from her, apologies streaming from his mouth faster than she could move off the ground. 

“Listen, it's my fault. I was tired and I thought it would be best if I watched you for a while after I gave you that... that... elixir. You were breathing so slowly and I was worried. I fell asleep. That's all,” she said, trying to put him at ease. 

He was silent and she wasn't sure what to do. He was fully dressed except for his boots since she made him take them off the night before so she could redo the wrap on his one ankle. Sitting up, he grabbed them, slipped them on and gingerly got to his feet. He wouldn't look her in the eye. Instead, he limped off into the woods and she decided the best thing to do was to put this behind them. It's not like anything happened. Sleep. They were sleeping. The hugs and hand holding they had done in the 21st century were just as intimate. Almost. 

She started to dig through the one pack for food for breakfast and waited for him to return before she made her own way into the woods to take care of things. When she returned, he still didn't look at her for longer than a few seconds but he did hand her the last piece of bread they had. She tore it and gave him half. 

“Did the drink help?” she asked, nibbling on her bread. “You were burning up last night.”

“I feel well enough to continue on today. I am acquainted with members of a tribe not too far north of this location. I am sure it will be safe to stop there for a night in order to recuperate and perhaps get more food and supplies. We've done well avoiding the wrong people. Let's just hope it stays that way,” he said, giving her a serious look before focusing on something else quickly. 

“I thought many of the indigenous people in this region were on the side of the British,” Abbie said, trying to recall any and all that state history they covered in school. 

“Some are but not all. Besides, I met these people... before I turned,” Crane said, continuing to pack their few supplies on the horse. “They are my friends no matter what.”

“That's good to know,” Abbie said, biting her tongue before she could tell him what would become of his friends soon. She could stay here and try to change so many things but who would listen? She'd be hanged before she could make a difference or she could hope to get back to her own time and be able to make a difference. 

It was still hard for her to accept, though. Very hard. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Fresh food was amazing. Being around people was wonderful. Listening to Captain Crane talk to them in their language amused her since the Crane she knew could barely get French right half the time. Maybe French just wasn't his thing since he seemed to do fine in other languages. 

It was wonderful and yet depressing at the same time. This rich life of theirs was nearly decimated already and soon... 

Abbie could take no more that evening and nodded at Crane as she walked to the longhouse where she had been offered a place to sleep. He was by the fire, smoking something with his friends and she hoped whatever it was in that pipe, it killed the pain he was still feeling. From his seldom seen smile, she guessed it was doing its job. 

It was dark in the longhouse, lit only by a small fire, and the smoke was nearly unbearable. Still, she was thankful to get a break from sleeping on the damp forest floor. She found her bed area and curled up on the groundcloth she had been using this entire trip. At least it was a bit softer with some furs and mats under it but honestly, she would even settle for the bed at Fredericks Manor at this point. 

She was nearly asleep when she felt someone standing over her. Startled, she sat up to find Captain Crane motioning for her to stay quiet. He sat down beside her with his long legs crossed and she was now really beginning to wonder what he had been smoking. 

“I was concerned,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You looked... disturbed. Are you feeling well, Miss Mills?” 

“It's nothing, Captain Crane. Just seeing how the world has changed,” she said, not wanting to share more with him. It would all be too hard to explain. 

“Tell me more about these cars. And what did you call them? Airplanes?” he asked. She looked at him, puzzled, because this was the the friendliest he had been in days. Maybe it was because he was with his friends and they were safe for the moment. 

“Cars are, well, horseless carriages. They have internal combustion engines and run on fossil fuels. Gasoline. As for airplanes, it would be easier to explain if you understood Bernoulli's principle – ”

“Daniel Bernoulli? The acclaimed scientist? I met him once when I was visiting Basel, obviously before I came to America and... what?” he asked when he discovered Abbie staring at him with her mouth open and an eyebrow arched up her forehead. 

“Stop. Just stop. You're too much,” she said with a giggle. 

“Too much what?” he asked. 

“It's just a saying. An expression,” she said. He took his hat off and set it beside him. He really did look more at ease than he had in days. Or actually, ever, if she only took Captain Crane into consideration. 

“How do you know these people?” she asked him. He looked at her as if he was trying to figure out how much she knew already about this. She found him doing that often. 

“They are very helpful in certain situations,” he said. 

“Spying situations?” she asked. He didn't answer her and didn't look like he intended to. Instead, he changed the course of their conversation entirely. 

“I brought you this. I thought you might be able to use it for your hair since you sacrificed yours for the sake of my ankle,” he said, pulling something out of his coat pocket. It was a long strip of fabric, nicer than the one he was now wearing in his boot. She smiled at the gift and was actually happy she'd be able to put her hair up again. 

“Thank you,” she said. 

“I would appreciate it greatly if you would help me wrap my foot again. You do a much better job than I can do alone. If you don't mind that is. I have a fresh bandage,” he said, pulling more fabric from another pocket on his coat. Abbie agreed and waited for him to pull off his boot. She took the strip of cloth and began to wrap it around his bruised ankle.

“How far are we from our destination?” Abbie asked. She knew he had been talking to some of the men about if they were going to have a clear path ahead of them and he had looked concerned. 

“Several more days,” he said but Abbie knew he was not telling her everything. 

“And?” 

“The death of Benjamin Franklin has caused ripples well beyond Sleepy Hollow as we suspected it might. Troop movement has shifted... it's all very strange,” he said, deep in thought. 

“Anything about Yorktown?”

“No.”

“We better get to Montreal before this is something we can no longer fix,” she said, finishing up the bandage by tucking it so it wouldn't rub anywhere the wrong way. He flexed his foot a bit and looked satisfied with her handiwork. 

“I believe I need one more day to heal properly. I can rest and we can get more provisions and then we will leave at first light on the following day. Will you be ready, Lieutenant?” he asked. 

“I'll be ready, Captain,” she answered. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^


	3. The Lieutenant

She could feel that someone was watching. Her instincts were well honed and she knew she wasn't alone. Abbie had slipped off to the quiet creek to wash up before they set off on another day of their journey. She was in only her shift, cold water dripping from her arms as she listened intently. Captain Crane had been busy plotting their path for the day and he was used to her needing a few minutes alone in the morning. He also had seen first hand that she could take care of herself. He wouldn't have followed her. No, this was something else. 

A chill ran through her and she tried to gather up her clothing to cover herself. The usual morning sounds of the woods seemed to have stopped and all she could hear was her heart pounding. Even the creek had grown unnaturally quiet. 

Abbie took off running toward the camp. She knew someone was still behind her and could feel it beginning to catch up. She could hear his footsteps matching hers. Could hear metal clanking, like a camp roll or equipment carried on his body. 

“Crane!” she cried out. “Captain Crane!”

She looked behind her and what she saw almost made her stumble. The man shifted from a foot soldier to something that was not of this world. He looked like something had made its way out of purgatory and into these northern woods. 

It was closing in on her and she knew the camp had to be near. She could smell the fire. Her feet were hurting from the roots and branches she was flying over and called out for Crane one more desperate time. 

A single shot rang out behind her and something hit the ground hard. She fell, curling into a ball, protecting herself as best she could. 

“Miss Mills! Are you hurt?” Crane asked as he raced toward her. He reached for her, pulling her off the ground and into his arms, holding her as she shivered from fear and the cold. She had dropped all her clothing along the way and was in nothing but her damp shift. For someone who was shocked by her hug a few days ago, he was holding onto her very tightly. 

“What was that thing?” she asked, twisting in his arms to see what was on the ground behind her. She still couldn't quite make it out. Crane had dropped his weapon after firing at it which was just as well. Damn thing didn't have more than one shot anyway. 

He still didn't let go of her. Still held her, protecting her. He finally realized what he was doing and let her go, then offered her his coat to cover herself. But not before he looked her over, she noticed. She let it pass without comment and instead, took a closer look at the thing that had chased her from the creek. 

“Demon?” he asked, picking up his weapon. 

“You've seen this before?” she asked back.

“A few times over the years. It would appear we're being followed,” Crane said, kneeling near the dead creature and inspecting him closer. Abbie stooped beside him. 

“Nice shot, by the way.”

“Thank you.” 

“So... you know about demons and your part of this secret cabal of George Washington's, but your wife being a witch is the shocking part of this whole adventure?” Abbie asked. Crane gave her a very pointed look and before either of them could say another word, the hell creature turned to dust and vanished before them. 

“I would suggest from now on, neither of us venture too far from the other,” Captain Crane said. Abbie started to agree but he must have thought she was going to protest. “I will, of course respect your privacy and I understand you are not defenseless but it would be for the best if we stay close.”

“I agree. This was close. Out of all the things I considered us running into on this journey, demon soldier here was not one of them. Now it's just one more thing to worry about. I'm slightly surprised your shot took him down. That isn't always necessarily the case with these things,” she said. 

She stood up and pulled his coat around her, realizing just how bare she must have appeared. 

“Special shot,” Captain Crane said. “It was supplied to me before we left the manor.”

“Good thinking. You ready to retrace the path back to the creek with me so I can fetch my clothing?” Abbie asked. Crane looked her up and down once more and blushed at what must have been a lovely memory. Smiling, Abbie led the way back to the creek. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

They stood over the creature, waiting for it to turn into a cloud of dust. It was the fourth one they had encountered and the fourth one they had successfully sent back to its maker. Whomever that might be. 

“Nice shot, Lieutenant,” Captain Crane said. Abbie had insisted he let her handle the flintlock pistol and this was the first demon she had taken out. 

“Thanks. How many more of those lead balls do we have?” she asked. They were a few days from their destination and she was sure there were more out there waiting for them. 

“Enough. I hope,” he said. She handed him back the pistol and brushed her hands on the front of her skirt. “I wish I better understood their intentions.”

“You mean besides keeping us on our toes? Maybe someone doesn't want us to set time right. Someone powerful. If we die now then we won't be around in the 21st century fighting the good fight. Kill both the Witnesses now and it all goes to hell. Literally,” Abbie said. 

“Could... hmm... could Katrina be responsible for this?” he asked. 

“I don't know but I doubt it. She has you in the 21st century. Her happy little family will be complete but not if you die now. Why would she want to put that in danger?” Abbie asked, not able to hide the hint of displeasure about this situation in her voice. 

“Maybe it's not about me.”

“Yeah, I have thought about that. I end up dead here. You end up buried like you're supposed to be. She gets her happy little family,” Abbie said. 

“Stop calling us that. I see no way we can be happy now.” 

“The problem is she never got over seeing that,” Abbie said. Crane gave her 'the look' he had perfected over the last few days and she decided to table this discussion until later. No use getting mad at this Crane about something the other Crane did. 

“We have to get farther today before we can stop,” he said, changing the subject. At least this demon hadn't chased them too far off the path unlike the last one. 

“Don't let me stop you,” she said and laughed. They sounded like any two people on a long road trip except they weren't bickering about the choice of music or where to stop to get a burger. 

“Is something amusing, Miss Mills?” he asked, getting the horse ready to start down the path again. 

“Nothing. Just you,” she said, watching him. 

“Am I too much again?” he asked, giving her a bit of a shy smile as he glanced her way. 

“Yeah, I'm afraid you really are too much,” she said before they started their journey again. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Most of the hours were long and mundane, punctuated by more long and mundane. Occasionally, they had to hide from someone passing nearby and sometimes they had to take out another demon, but a lot of it was walking and trees and more trees. Like reading The Lord of The Rings books. Abbie couldn't even comment on that because Crane would have no idea, despite being an Oxford man. Someday he'd know. 

“What pubs did you go to while you were at Oxford?” she did ask, trying to break the boredom of walking. It was a chilly day and she had her cloak pulled tight around her as she made her way to his side. 

“Why?” he asked. She could let him know that his school was now a tourist destination for various book fans but maybe it would be better if he didn't know. 

“You're a good looking guy, Crane...Captain Crane. I figured you had to have some social life before you got involved with Katrina,” Abbie asked, knowing enough about a few of them. “Mary Wells. Betsy Ross.” 

He stopped walking and she had to backtrack several paces to return to where he was standing. 

“What have we discussed?” he asked, a subtle blush rising to his cheeks. He had grown more tan since they had been outside constantly over the last few days, his hair taking on golden streaks from the sun during the short time he went without a hat. She would have noticed his blush more on the pale cheeks she was accustomed to but still, it was hard to miss. 

“Nothing too revealing, Captain,” Abbie said with a smile, not sharing more. He gave her a slightly frustrated look but continued walking. “So, the pubs?”

“I did spend some time in pubs. With friends. I'm sure there are still pubs or have they been replaced by coffee houses?” he asked. 

“Oh, you still enjoy the pub and a pint. Then there's the singing. You aren't half bad,” she said and he continued on with the look of frustration that she knew so much about him. 

“I've heard you singing, when you're are doing your morning routine, and you have a magnificent voice,” he said. “I'm not sure what river you want to keep rolling on but your voice is lovely.”

“I know you can sing some sad sea shanty as well as the next man and probably a good war ditty. You have even taught me a few while I was teaching about all the years of music you missed out on,” Abbie said, humming a bit of a song he'd always sing. 

She was getting clumsier with what she was telling him but was finding she cared less the longer this journey went on. A part of her was resigned to the fact that the longer they took to get there, the less of a chance it would work to set things straight. She would be trapped here. It hurt her head to think about. If he doesn't die, he wouldn't be in the 21st century in the first place so since this all happened, he'd have to die at some point. 

“Very lovely,” he said, breaking her from her complicated thoughts. 

“You could sing Yankee Doodle,” she suggested with a shrug. 

“Yankee... Doodle... is still something you know?” he asked incredulously. 

“Yes, it is. At least some form of it. Maybe a few words have been changed in the last few centuries,” Abbie said. 

“That song was originally sung by British troops as a slur but soon...”

“We won a few battles here and there and took that song and made it ours,” Abbie said, having heard the story before. From the very same person. Sort of. “So, sing it.”

Captain Crane shook his head but Abbie smiled at him, batted her eyelashes a little, and he started singing. She didn't recognize any of the words as what she knew but the tune was there. He stopped after a few verses and she sang to him the words she knew. She had to learn it early in elementary school for some pageant or another. She remembered it well because she wanted to hold the flag but Angela got to instead of her. But did Angela ever get to see colonial America? No. 

Crane appeared transfixed by her voice so she decided to try something else. He was silent as she sang. They continued to walk but every once in a while, she'd sing something and he'd turn and smile at her. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Since they had been together, Abbie had watched Crane fight off demons and monsters and whatever else hell had to throw at them. This was the first time she was honestly afraid he might die. 

She was struggling to get the flintlock loaded but something was really wrong with it. Crane was engaged in hand to hand combat with a man who she could swear was twice his size. His uniform wasn't one she immediately recognized but he didn't have to chase them very far before he had overtaken them. 

“Damn it!” she shouted, trying to figure out what she was going to do with the malfunctioning weapon. 

“Lieutenant...” Captain Crane said, still struggling. Sometimes when he was sitting in the archives, surrounded by his ancient texts and maps, she could almost forget that he knew what war was like in a world before missiles and drones and guns that could mow down dozens. Now she was learning how that felt, too. 

He was scrabbling backward across the ground, trying to escape the fight long enough to get the upper hand. There was no way one soldier was going to beat the two of them. No way it was going to kill Crane and leave her in this world for however long without him. 

She finally got the shot loaded and aimed for the man before he could catch up to Crane. One shot in the back and he fell to his knees and then the ground. The two of them remained silent while they waited for the being to turn to dust. 

He didn't. 

“Human monster?” Abbie asked.

“In a uniform so someone is going to eventually miss him,” Captain Crane, still breathing rapidly. He was covered in dirt and leaves from the ground and was sweating from the struggle. He stood up and brushed himself off, looking around. “The horse?” 

“He bolted but he always comes back to us. I'm sure he will again this time,” Abbie said, also looking around, trying to figure out which direction he might have gone in. 

“Let us hope so and soon. All our supplies and food are strapped to his back. This is all we have for water presently,” Crane said, indicating his canteen. He took the pistol from her and examined it briefly. 

“I've got some food in my pack. Not much but enough for a night. What are we going to do about this guy?” Abbie asked, afraid they would be digging a shallow grave yet before sundown. Instead, she and Crane dragged the body off even deeper into the woods and covered him with foliage. 

“Now we get the hell out of here,” Crane said, putting his hand out to her. She took it as he led her past the body and back to their path. 

“You rarely talk about it,” Abbie said, realizing he was still holding her hand. It was incredibly comforting, as always, when he would do that. 

“What do I rarely talk about?” he asked. 

“The war... I mean, you talk about it but not the worst aspects of it. The battles. Men...dying,” Abbie said hesitantly, not wanting to break this easy comfort they had going between them but yet still curious. Definitely not wanting to share that his own son would be War itself. 

“War is everything man should avoid but yet, we can't. We don't. The death. The cries. The stench of it. Having to tell someone their son is dead. You'd think once would be enough but no, we go back to it over and over again,” he said. He pulled his hand from hers so he could use it to express himself and she missed the feel of his palm pressed against hers. “Please tell me this is the last.”

“I can't tell you that,” she said. 

“Can't or won't? Besides, I already know. War will never end. Maybe it's not supposed to,” he said. 

“World War II was somewhat...”

“World War... what? There's been more than one?” Crane asked, incredulously. Abbie thought about how her Crane had watched history documentaries nonstop for a while, trying to catch up. He would quietly watch programs on all the wars, keenly focused on all the details and photographs and then go off to study them in texts. He'd mumble about how certain things were facts and would never change. She'd have to ask him more. If she ever saw him again. 

The sun was getting lower on the horizon and the path opened up to a small clearing. 

“Damn that horse. You think he would've found us by now. How do you think he finds us anyway?” Abbie asked. 

“Perhaps he thinks we're his only way back to his real master,” Captain Crane said. 

“That might be true. How much farther do you think, anyway?” she asked. 

“If we have no more interruptions and travel quickly tomorrow, I was hoping for the following day. Then we have to find this coven or perhaps they already know we are coming. I'm not an expert on witches,” Crane said, not hiding the sarcasm in his voice. 

“Should we settle here for the night or keep going?” Abbie asked. It wasn't going to be comfortable but she needed to get off of her feet for a while. As an answer, he set down the pack he had been carrying. “I'll help you find some brush for a shelter.”

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

“That horse is going to be in so much trouble,” Abbie said after they finished the first shelter. It had grown dark and she was tired of so many things right now. “Listen. Just crawl in. I'll crawl in after you. We need sleep and I'm not building another one of these.”

“Miss Mills...” 

“I'm really not as concerned about some imagined impropriety as I am about sleeping, Crane. Seriously. I'm tired. I'm hungry. And I just remembered that I missed the season finale of Scandal. So just get in there and get comfortable,” Abbie said, pointing at the shelter. 

He obeyed, somehow getting his lanky form in under the branches quickly before she could get out another word. His coat was their only ground cover besides the leaves she piled in and Abbie managed to fashion some pillows out of one of the many unnecessary layers of her skirts. She somehow found a comfortable spot and once again realized just how dark and cold the world could be at night.

She nestled in a little closer to him, combining his warmth with her own, and was surprised when he moved his arm to comfort her. Abbie reached for him and hugged him back. This time he accepted her hug willingly and they clung to each other in the night. 

“You are unlike anyone I have ever known before,” Crane said to her, his tone soft. Almost... loving. “There is no one like you where... when I'm from.”

“I could say the same about you,” she said, taking one of his hands in hers. “Yet here we are. Always ending up together no matter what. Like it's fate.”

He let out a troubled sigh. She knew if she was feeling confused by this new situation they were in, he had to be feeling it, too. More so. She at least knew of him where she came from. 

“Miss Mills, I don't know how I would have made it these last few days if you weren't exactly who you are. So much has happened with Katrina and this journey of ours. I consider myself a competent man with a strong enough will to face battle but this has been different than anything I've confronted up until now. And...”

Abbie softly placed a finger on his lips to silence him. 

“We will make it together. We always do,” Abbie said. 

He took her hand in his and kept it near his mouth, kissing all her fingertips. His beard had started to grow back and the stubble tickled but her giggle turned to a gasp when his tongue darted out and gently flicked against her skin. Her hands were not all that clean and her manicure was never going to be the same again but he didn't seem to care as he continued with what he was doing. 

She closed her eyes for just a moment, torn inside, knowing she had wanted just this for a while now but wanting it with her Crane. As if he could read her mind, he stopped what he was doing and they stared at each other in whatever moonlight their eyes could capture. 

“Please accept my apologies, Miss Mills –” 

She cut him off again. 

“No. Don't do that. Don't apologize for something I want,” she said, staring into his dark and puzzled eyes. She sighed, releasing all the confusion she had in her and remembered this was her Crane, just a little younger. A little less weary. But he was still her Ichabod Crane. 

She propped herself up over him and before he could protest or turn away from her or do any such thing he would consider proper, she kissed him. He didn't move at first, perhaps too startled to kiss her in return, but soon he relented, holding her face in his hands. He lifted up towards her, chasing the kiss down and devouring it. Her heart was pounding and a warmth flowed through her as they continued to kiss, hands and mouths exploring each other. 

He was on his back and she straddled him, her skirts tugged up her legs now as she kissed him again and again. She could feel him grow hard against the front of his breeches and she slid against the length of him, curious and desperate for more. The feel of him... everything contracted inside of her. 

Fingers entwined as she held his hands on either side of his head, her mouth only a few centimeters from his as she felt him gasp when she continued to move, rocking both of them in a sweet rhythm. 

But as much as she wanted him and wanted all of this, she didn't really want a quick screw in the woods. It just didn't feel right somehow. She moved off of him and once again curled against him, listening as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Maybe we should stop for now. I mean, I don't want to but maybe...”

“After everything, you want more than a fumble in the forest?” he asked. 

“Yeah. And perhaps a hot bath first. Clean clothes. A bed,” she said and he kissed the top of her head. “And I don't want you to regret anything that might happen between us.” 

He didn't answer her right away and she knew he was thinking. He was still married. Abbie had already been through all this before and wasn't ready to deal with his guilt tonight. His family was not what he thought they were and he was still processing that. 

“I want you to know that no matter how this turns out, I will be at your side. If this spell doesn't work and you are trapped here with me, I will not leave you. We'll go wherever we have to go to be safe. I promise you that,” he said softly, kissing the top of her head once more. 

“Where could we go?” Abbie asked. A black woman and a deserter from the army on the run. She was just thankful they hadn't been caught so far and that the only thing after them with any dedication was a legion of demons. 

“I don't know. We'll think of something. This will work, though. It has to or else...”

“Or else how would I be here in the first place?”

“Yes. So you have to go home...”

“And you have to die.” 

That was the truth of the matter. There was really only one place to go and that was back home where they belonged together. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

A chuffing noise and a warm blast of air woke Abbie. She opened her eyes to find the horse looking in, nuzzling her face, his eyes still glowing red. She was alone in the shelter and the morning sun was shining though the branches. 

“You're in so much trouble, Mister,” Abbie said, reaching up and stroking the animal. “Did you see Crane?” 

“I'm here, Miss Mills. Our equine companion appears to have found a friend,” Crane said. Abbie sat up and shimmied her way out of under the lean-to. The large white horse was now joined by a smaller bay mare. 

“I see he's also got some game.”

“I don't... understand.”

“Nothing. He went off and found himself a new girlfriend. The moon was working her magic last night,” Abbie said. She went up to the new horse and stroked her muzzle. She noticed Crane blushed when she mentioned the night before. She smiled at the memory of his lips on hers, hoping there would be more before this was done. 

“I believe it is the horse of the soldier we dispatched with yesterday,” Crane said, going through the saddle bags while Abbie continued to coo at the horse. “Not much for supplies so he couldn't have been far from home... whatever home might have been. Oh, there's some food.”

“The good news is we now each have a horse to ride. We can make it there faster,” Abbie said and Captain Crane raised his eyebrow at her. “What? I know how to ride a lot of things.”

“I... assumed so,” he said, his cheeks blushing a deeper scarlet this time. 

“Horses, too,” Abbie said, still amused by how befuddled he looked right now. 

“The trouble is if we get caught with that man's horse...”

“It can get worse than a deserter and a supposed runaway slave who managed to get Benjamin Franklin killed getting caught trying to flee to Canada? I don't see how so we might as well ride our way to whatever it is before us,” Abbie said. 

Crane finally agreed with a nod of his head and he set about rearranging the packs on the horses so they'd both be able to ride easier. 

“Which horse would you prefer?” Crane asked as Abbie returned from her morning jaunt out into the woods to relieve herself and to get her skirts put on right and her head wrap arranged properly. 

“I think I'd like to ride the white horse,” Abbie said, looking at the creature whose approaching hoof beats could once drive her into a state of terror. “You okay with that?”

“If you are comfortable with that arrangement than I am, too. Out of curiosity, if cars and airplanes exist in your time, why would people still need to know how to ride a horse?” Crane asked. 

“Most people do it for fun. Some people still have to ride for a living. There are mounted police forces, for example. Great for crowd control. Oh, and we still have cowboys and I'm sure many of them still ride horses,” Abbie said as she considered how she was going to get on the back of this enormous animal. 

Crane did help her up but she refused to ride side saddle. Instead, she tucked her skirts just right so the chaffing would be at a minimum and then watched him mount his horse. It didn't go as smoothly as she expected with a saddle that wasn't his own. 

“Captain...”

“Miss Mills?”

“Just...”

“Shall we just go?” he asked instead of discussing his horsemanship. 

Abbie smiled and led her horse back to the larger path they had been on. It was a long day but not as long as it had been when they were on foot. They stopped for some food mid afternoon and to let the horses rest for a while before beginning their journey again. Crane was confident in his ability to map out their path and she had to trust him. Until the day someone would come through here and put in a highway, she had no real clue where they were going except north. 

The daylight was starting to wane and Abbie was beginning to think about stopping for the night when she heard a noise in the woods, not too far off the path. Her heart started beating faster and she wasn't sure her legs were ready to fight off another demon after a day of riding. 

Crane heard it, too, and put his hand up and motioned for her to stop. He slid off of his horse and went to prepare the flintlock, obviously thinking the same thing she was. 

“If anything happens to me, you take that horse and you keep riding north as fast a you can,” he said, keeping his voice as low as possible. 

“No. This won't work if you die,” Abbie said. She'd rather stay and fight and die now than do this alone in any time period. “Don't make me remind you again. We are the two Witnesses. This doesn't work alone.”

“Lieutenant.... Abbie,” he said and just the sound of her name on his lips would have been enough to make her heart start beating faster if wasn't already pounding as hard as it possibly could be. 

Two men stepped out onto the path in front of them. Abbie was formulating which was the best way... run or fight... and she saw Crane take a step back, pistol drawn. They hadn't had to face two adversaries at once on this journey so far and this changed everything. They weren't wearing uniforms but instead just normal Colonial clothing. Abbie wasn't sure this was a good sign or not. 

The taller of the two men took a step toward them but stopped when he saw that Crane was ready to shoot him. The other man smiled and shook his head, looking thrilled that he had found a prize. 

“Captain Ichabod Crane and Miss Abigail Mills,” he said, looking at his partner and then back at them. “We've been looking for you.”

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^


	4. The Circle/Epilogue

It was dark when the masons led them to Chateau Corbin. Abbie was certain the name of the house couldn't be a coincidence. No more a coincidence than a couple of Freemasons stumbling upon them in the forest and offering to show them the way. 

The pathway to the front was lit by massive torches, the smell of oil burning off into the night. As they passed by, the flame would dim itself and go out. Abbie's eyes widened at this, curious as to what kind of technology this could be.

“That's some Hogwarts level of decorating right there,” she said as another pair of flames dimmed out. Crane stared at her, puzzled once more. The two masons who had led them here, Elias and William, also gave her a warning look and she rolled her eyes but kept quiet.

Their short, tense forest standoff lasted only as long as it took for them to do a secret greeting with Crane and explain that they were there to help. Abbie was wary at first but here they were, a day sooner than planned. Chateau Corbin was comparable in size to Fredericks Manor and she guessed by the automatically dimming torches, it had wards on it to protect it. How they were getting through was still a secret to her.

Except someone knew they were coming.

The horses were led off by two stable boys with directions to feed them and make them comfortable. She fought the urge to take Crane's hand in hers the last few feet of the journey, the darkness following them as they got to the large oak double doors.

A portly man with graying hair and a tidy beard opened the doors before they even knocked and welcomed them to the chateau. His English was better than Crane's French but the accent was there. Lamps lined the stone walls as they were led down a hallway, Elias and William following behind.  
The room they were escorted to was lined with bookcases containing thousands of old texts. The fireplace was large enough for Abbie to walk into. Logs were piled high in it, the enormous fire chasing any shadows from enormous room.

They were immediately met by a young woman – younger than Abbie, even – who approached them with a smile on her face. She had mousy brown hair plaited down her back and was dressed plainly enough considering she lived in a chateau.

She folded Abbie into a hug, clutching onto her. “Abigail Mills. I'm so excited to meet you. And you, too, Ichabod Crane.”

“You can call me Abbie and he prefers Captain Crane,” Abbie said, certain Crane gave this young woman one of his looks already.

“I'm Emmeline Corbin,” she said, stepping back from the hug but still holding onto Abbie. “We have much to discuss in order to get this spell right. So much. Others will be joining us in the morning, but first, Ichabod and Abigail, I'm sure you'd like to get some well deserved rest and not out under the stars.”

“Actually, first I'd like to know who you are and what's going on,” Abbie asked.

Emmeline motioned toward the grouping of chairs in front of the fire and Abbie and Crane sat down next to each other, across from their present hostess.

“I am a member of the Circle of Fortuna Redux,” she said as if that should explain it all. “The Sisters and I are the only ones who can set the path straight and get you to where you should already be. We are the only ones with enough power to correct this.”

“And Grace Dixon is related how?” Abbie asked, curious now as to how they were set on this journey.

“She is the cousin of one of our Sisters. You will meet Sister Grace Isabeau when she joins us tomorrow,” Emmeline answered. With her hands, she smoothed the plain fabric that made her skirt and she looked into the fire. “There are seven of the original Sisters now. There used to be more though our numbers are growing again. We have been fighting a battle against evil and we haven't always won.”

“I know the feeling well,” Abbie said.

Another servant came into the room with a tray of tea. Abbie's stomach growled. She couldn't remember what she ate today but it wasn't much.

“I will see that you are both fed before you retire for the night. I'm afraid that the evil that has chased us down knew you were coming here and began to chase you, too. Ichabod, I met your wife once. Years ago,” Emmeline said and Abbie wondered how many years that could possibly mean since she looked barely out of her teens.

“Oh?” Crane said, looking into the cup of tea he had just poured.

“I have much to discuss with both of you. About the past and about the future you two will share. About the only way we can fix this. But for now, drink your tea and I will have food brought to you. You will both be able to get washed up. Abigail, I'm sure I have some clothing that will be perfect for you,” Emmeline said, standing up. Crane stood when she did so Abbie felt she should, too. Another servant brought in a tray of bread, various cheeses and some fruit. Abbie's stomach did the growling thing again.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Miss Corbin,” Crane said and Abbie repeated the sentiment.

“You are most welcome. Not that the Sisters had much of a choice in the matter. We must set things right or the consequences will be dire. Now I bid you goodnight. You will be well taken care of by the staff but do not hesitate to ask for anything else you might need. I will speak to you both in the morning,” Emmeline said before exiting the room.

Crane gave Abbie a look that she recognized all too well, instructing her to not say too much with just an arched eyebrow and a slight shake of his head. They ate in silence before asking to retire for the night.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Abbie washed up, enjoying warm, clean water more than she ever thought she would in her life, and pulled a linen nightgown over her head. It fit her better than anything else had so far on this journey and she was happy that for a change, she didn't have to push the sleeves up on something. She fixed her hair and considered putting on shoes but decided against it. 

She took a lantern and quietly made her way down the hall, seeking out Crane's room. Before she got very far, he stepped out from his room and looked startled to see her.

“I was just coming to find you,” he said, blushing slightly. 

“Ta-da! I'm here!” Abbie said, spreading her arms out as if she was the main event. 

“Here. Come in. Yes. Do come in,” he said nervously, looking up and down the hallway. 

She entered his room, which was much like hers, and looked him over. He was wearing a simple nightshirt and his boots to wander around the halls at night. She set her lantern on a table and it helped cut the darkness that permeated this world. She watched as he took his boots off now that he didn't have to go searching for her.

“So...” Abbie said.

“I don't think we have any other choice but to trust the Circle at this point. I would have liked to have discussed it all further, especially with Elias and William, but they weren't much for talking once we arrived here,” Crane said. 

He sat down on the chair near the fireplace, pushing down his nightshirt to make sure nothing was revealed when he did so. It was the only chair in the room so she climbed on the bed and sat with her legs crossed and waited for him to say something about it. He didn't.

“What do you think has to be done to fix everything at this point?” Abbie said. She knew better than to question the power of witches who were good at their craft but setting time right? That seemed to be a little more than one could expect from anyone.

“They are going to have to be able to return this to the right moment and I am going to have to die. I don't know how,” he said. “By that, I mean I don't know how I'm going to die. Maybe they have to do it. Maybe not. I hope to find out more tomorrow.”

“Are you scared?” she asked.

“To be honest, I'm not excited about the dying part. But I will readily do it if it means I get to meet you once more in the future, Miss Mills,” he said.

“If they can set it back to that moment... when you were supposed to die, you will never remember any of this. Never remember me,” Abbie said sadly. She had already lived through life with her Crane and knew if that had been some sort of loop in time, he didn't remember a second of it.

“I can't believe I would ever forget you,” he said quietly.

“Maybe it's for the best,” Abbie said, looking at him and the candlelight flickering across his face. She patted the edge of the bed. “Come here.”

“I...”

“Just do it,” she instructed and he stood, hesitated, and then walked to the bed. She slid over, giving him enough room to join her. The mattress wasn't the quality she was used to at home but it was a lot better than where they had been sleeping the last few nights.

He lay down on the bed beside her, on his back, his hand folded and placed on his chest. He looked like he was dead and put in a coffin already. Abbie was having none of that.

“Are you going to regret this?” she asked.

“How can I regret something I'll never remember?” he asked, turning his face towards her, like a flower turning toward the springtime sun.

She wasn't sure how long she had loved him. Couldn't tell anyone the day or time it happened, whether it was her Crane or this Crane or every Crane he could ever be. But she did love him and was torn between being with this man, who would never remember her, or waiting for one who might not be there if this went wrong.

Abbie picked the here and now, having all the faith in the world that he'd be there in the 21st century. That she would be with him again. It might not happen immediately but it would happen.

Wordlessly, she closed the distance between them. Her mouth met his and gave him a gentle kiss, testing to see if he'd even want more. He did. He wanted her so much that he pulled her on top of him and she looked down into his eyes which were a different blue from what she had ever seen them before. Like looking into the ocean when the sun had just set. Darker but still flashing. Her nightgown was hitched up her legs already and when she moved against him, there wasn't much of anything between them. He threw his head back into the pillow and moaned as she kept rocking against him.

“You ready?” she asked playfully. “Hmm, Captain?”

“Ready, Lieutenant,” he said, looking back at her with eyes so familiar she'd know them no matter what the century.

He sat up with her still on his lap and tugged his nightshirt up and over his head before unbuttoning a few of the tiny buttons on the front of her gown and quickly pulling it off of her, tossing it to the floor. As quickly as that they were both naked, mouths exploring skin, tongues darting out to taste everything.

His head fell back on the pillow and Abbie moved above him, sliding against his cock, sighing at how wonderful the hard length of him felt against her clit. He looked at her, completely mesmerized by everything she did. He reached between them and guided himself into her, his fingers brushing against her perfectly. She sank all the way down, letting him fill her completely, and she loved the way she could no longer tell where she ended and he began.

Crane's hands went to her waist and then down to her bum. She fell forward, her mouth just above his, breathing him in as he thrust up and into her. His eyes kept searching hers, looking lost until she smiled at him and kissed him and he was found again.

“Whatever happens, we have this. Since you won't remember it, I'll remember it for the both of us,” she said. “Someday I'll tell you. When we're together again.”

“But what if we're never...”

“Shhh,” she said, silencing him with a long, deep kiss. She wanted to do so many things to him – and with him – but this could be their only night. She didn't know what the Sisters had planned or how fast they could arrange it.

She reached between them, touching herself and then taking his hand and showing him what she liked. He had a pregnant wife somewhere in time so it wasn't like he had no clue what he was doing but he was more reserved than Abbie imagined he would be. Or maybe it was because of the mess they were in? Because his wife was still that? His wife.

Casting those thoughts from her mind, she focused on what he was doing to her and what she could do to him. She'd rise up over him, until he would almost slip out from inside of her and he pleaded with her and told her she was going to drive him mad if she kept it up. She didn't care. She kept doing just that, clenching around him when she sank back down on his cock.

He came, his head thrown back once more and it wasn't long before she came, too. When he finally looked at her again, he had such a look of adoration across his face and Abbie had to look away.  
What kind of cruel world were they trapped in where he'd never remember this?

He reached out and touched her, fingers gliding slowly across where the candlelight danced first. His fingertips touched her arm gently and went across the implant she had in for birth control.

“What is this?” he asked, feeling the small rise on her skin.

“That keeps me from getting pregnant among other things,” she said and he looked at her curiously. “Hormonal birth control is common. We don't have to rely on counting days and pulling out or worse, condoms made out of sheep parts.”

She let him slide out of her body as she lay down next to him, snuggling in close. The room now smelled of the beeswax candles and sex and them and it was warm and was nearly enough to put her to sleep. Except she was afraid of sleeping. Afraid of what tomorrow would bring.

“That's very convenient,” he said. “I'm assuming... that is, I should say...”

“Time's are different. Women can wear trousers,” Abbie said, not wanting to answer any questions tonight about past – or would it be future? – lovers.

“One would think that would make this all the more difficult,” he said and they both laughed. They eventually fell into a comfortable silence, just enjoying the moment.

“Crane? It's going to be all right. I don't know how but it will be. Whatever happens,” Abbie said. She knew she should go back to her room but she didn't want to. Didn't really want to leave his arms ever again.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

She woke up with a start. The room was now lit only by the soft moonlight through the window and Crane was still beside her. Abbie had been afraid he might need time to think and would leave their bed, but he was still there, dreaming away. She placed a hand on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath.

It was strange to see him without that scar across his heart, and she wondered how this was all going to work. How such a thing could be reset anymore from this point. Maybe if things couldn't be changed, they could just stay here. Or run. Run far away and no one would find them. They'd have each other.  
It was crazy to consider any of that. It all had to be fixed.

Abbie slipped her hand down his chest and over his abdomen and hips, exploring his body like he had hers before they fell asleep. He was so slender, almost graceful really, and still pale despite the time they had spent outside. Yet he was also masculine in all the right ways.

Her mouth replaced her hand and it wasn't long before he was awake.

“You're still here,” he said.

“If we only get this night, I'm not going anywhere,” she responded between the kisses. He squirmed under her touch and he was growing hard already. She pulled him into her mouth and he gasped at the sensation of her tongue twirling around his cock.

She held the base of it as her lips wrapped around him, taking him is far as she could. His hands went to her head and she could feel him considering what to do before he sank his fingers into her messy hair.

Her hands went lower, her fingernails brushing gently against his balls before she moved down, her mouth exploring everything. He was begging her for more, for her to do it again and again, so she did. Her tongue lapped at him and his hips bucked off the bed to meet her touch.

It wasn't long before he was coming already and she pulled away from him then kissed him on his mouth. He pulled away at first but then kissed her back, his mouth hungry for hers.

“That was... that was...”

“Awe inspiring?” Abbie said jokingly when he couldn't find the words.

“Yes. Indeed. I've never... no one ever...”

'Really?” she asked incredulously.

“Really.”

She had just assumed but she had assumed wrong. She snuggled in beside him, pulling the quilt up to cover them both. Morning had to be coming soon and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. She didn't want to admit that she was scared but there was a tiny part of her that was more scared than she had ever been.

“Please tell me about all this someday. When the time is right. When you think I'll be ready to know,” he said, his voice so sad. “Tell me about how we made it through all of this together.”

“I will,” she promised.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

She kissed him once more before slipping down the hall and back into her room. The house was starting to wake up and she wanted to get washed and dressed before anyone came looking for her. The dress that had been left for her the night before was much fancier than any she had so far on this unexpected journey but still simple enough that no one had to come in and lace up a corset for her. She was a little disappointed by that, actually.

Soon enough, a girl who could be no more than ten did come to retrieve her from her room, knocking softly on the door. She smiled at Abbie and motioned for her to follow.

Abbie hoped she would be joining Crane but her young escort brought her back to the library she had been in the night before and he wasn't there. Instead, several women of various ages were sitting in chairs or looking through the books that lined the walls. They all turned to look at her when she entered but only one approached her.

“Grace Abigail Mills,” the woman said, pulling Abbie into an embrace. She had to be in her 40s and was incredibly beautiful. For as plain as Emmeline Corbin's dress was, this woman's was ornate, a mustard color covered in embroidered flowers. Her hair was done in perfect twists that Abbie could never manage with her own hair. “I'm Grace Isabeau Martin. We are related... though perhaps very, very distantly now. Please call me Isabeau. That seems to be a strange tradition women in our line have picked up. Except for Grace, that is.”

Abbie hugged her back and felt a strange connection to this woman. Perhaps it was her imagination or it was the thought of a familial line, but she felt... safe.

“Please, call me Abbie,” she said, stepping back from the hug but still staying close to Isabeau. “Where is Captain Crane?”

“He will be joining us in a short time. We wanted to speak to both of you separately about a few matters,” Isabeau said. She led Abbie to a circle of chairs and motioned for her to sit down. The other women all followed, filling the other seats, their hands folded on their laps.

“Shall I do the introductions?” Emmeline asked. Abbie worried that she'd never remember all their names but Emmeline put her at ease, as if she was reading her thoughts. “If you forget, just ask. We know it's a lot to take in. Helene, would you like to begin?”

They went around introducing themselves, some in French, others in various degrees of English, and finished with Marguerite, the younger girl who had come to Abbie's room.

“You understand this is very powerful magic and if it goes wrong and fails, it will fail spectacularly?” Isabeau asked.

“We don't want to scare you, but we do want you to be prepared. After this moment, we will assume everything will work perfectly,” Emmeline added, giving Isabeau a harsh look.

“I packed my 21st century clothes to change into because I am certain this will work,” Abbie said far more confidently than she sometimes felt. She wouldn't let them see her doubt. They had to believe she trusted them.

“We have all the texts that we need to get the part you're involved in to work” Cecile said. She had dark brown hair that was piled on top of her head and wore a deep purple silk dress that Abbie was a little envious of. “We will have everything worked out for the Captain shortly. His is more difficult because we have to be able to get him back to where he needs to be so eventually, you will be together again.”

“Moving through time like this is close to moving gears. We have to make sure you are on the larger gear and he is on the smaller gear. You will be going one way while he goes another,” Isabeau tried to explain.

“We will explain certain things to Ichabod that only he needs to know. So as to not confuse the situation,” Emmeline stated. “Please don't share with him these words we are sharing with you separately.”

Abbie agreed even though she knew it would be hard.

“Today we'll be preparing ourselves. It will take all the energy we have to make this work but for you, Abbie, it will be worth it,” Isabeau said. “Ben Franklin is important but it was never outside the realm of possibility of any of those men dying. But for the future of all of us? Abbie, you are most important.”

Abbie had a million questions she wanted to ask everyone, especially Isabeau, and she hoped she'd get the chance before... whatever was to become of her.

“We will talk more later, Abigail. Until then, enjoy today. You are safe here,” Emmeline added.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

It felt like hours had passed before Abbie found Crane again. He was outside the chateau, wandering the grounds, looking at everything like he'd never see it again. He looked at her the same way.

He was back in his uniform, looking every bit the Captain. He didn't have on the hat but everything else was like he had looked just days before. Even his beard was starting to fill in again.

“We can't discuss any of it,” he said when she went to speak.

“I know that. I was just going to ask a question. Remember before we left Fredericks Manor, we were told one of these women was a very powerful witch. More powerful than others we had met before. Which one do you think they are talking about?” she asked.

“I do not know. Miss Corbin? Young Mademoiselle Marguerite? They are such a diverse group,” he said and Abbie agreed.

She took his hand in hers as they continued to stroll around the gardens. It was a beautiful day, breezy and cool in the shade of the trees but pleasantly warm in the sunlight.

“This could be my last...” Crane started to say but Abbie stopped him.

“No! This isn't your last anything, Crane. The Sisters will make this work. You will come back to me!” Abbie said, turning to him and pulling him into her grasp. She held him tight, listening to his heart beating in his chest, and she refused to believe they would ever be separated for long.

“What if... what if Katrina... and the child... what if...”

“We will deal with it all when we're together again. We will,” she assured him.

“At least the last time, I didn't know when I woke up that morning, my death was coming that very day. Yes, I'm a soldier so I have imagined it many times over but we all think we have a chance. This is different,” Crane said. They held onto each other tight, her hands clutching the woolen fabric of his coat.

“Like being rolled to the guillotine in Paris,” Abbie said.

“What?”

“Never mind. You don't have to know,” Abbie said. They let go of each other and continued to walk around the gardens, arm in arm. “I will be there when you wake up again. I know this because I've already been there. You won't remember me but I'll be there.”

“So much time,” he said.

“We have to do this,” she said and he nodded, circling them around the gardens to a wooden bench. Abbie sat down and smoothed out her skirt.

“You are beautiful,” he said, sitting beside her. “I assume you normally wear trousers now... in your life. With your job.”

“I do. But who knows, maybe that will change. Though I will tell you gowns are certainly not in style,” Abbie said, kicking out the long skirt with her feet. “Maybe for weddings. Red carpets. Proms.”

“Besides weddings, I have no idea what you are talking about,” Crane said. She didn't want to waste time explaining. Not when they could be kissing.

He blushed after she kissed him and looked around to see if anyone was watching. No one was anywhere nearby so she kissed him again and again and again.

“I want you,” he whispered between kisses and warmth flooded her body and shot down to between her thighs. She had seen an old stone outbuilding tucked away in the garden and she stood, pulling him in that direction.

It was a gardening shed and the inside smelled of loamy earth and the only light came through a small circular window high above them. The walls were damp and cold and she knew that because her back was up against one of them faster than she could comprehend and he was kissing her once more. He picked her up and her legs wrapped around his waist, her skirts hiked up. She had on no underclothes because none had been offered to her.

She reached a hand between them, trying to deal with all the fabric he had on. Coat and vest and shirt and breeches and finally she got to where she wanted, buttons quickly coming undone. She was quickly coming undone. He fumbled between them, guiding himself into her and she gasped at the sensation of everything. The wet stone at her back. The soft light that caught his eyes perfectly. The intense heat of him as he slipped in and out of her body. The taste of him on her lips.

Abbie never wanted this to end. Last night had been sweet but this stolen moment was how she always imagined their first time would be. They would save the world again and do it in celebration, quick and fast in the archives or the woods or wherever.

Not like this, a goodbye.

He thrust into her harder and faster and she met him stroke for stroke, feeling near the edge of release. Everything was going by so quickly, including this. She came, gasping for breath, and soon he was coming, too.

He didn't set her down on the ground or pull out of her or promise her everything would be okay. He just looked at her, so much said in his eyes that he didn't need words. He sank to his knees as if in prayer, holding her tight as she stayed wrapped around him.

Something was slowly shifting in the world. Both of them could feel it. Abbie knew the time had come for someone to be looking for them... for this to end here so it could begin somewhere else.

She moved off of him, standing up and watching him. He stayed on the ground, on his knees, and looked up at her, a sadness in his eyes she never wanted to see again. She offered him her hand and he took it, standing up in one smooth motion. They both went about tucking in clothes and straightening out fabric, making themselves presentable again, neither of them saying a word.

It was only a few minutes later when they heard Emmeline's voice calling for Ichabod and Abigail. They exited the little building and went to find out what was waiting for them next.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Isabeau took Abbie aside, imploring that when she got back to her time, she had to start studying the art of magic. It was in her, buried away, and she would have to coax it out. Abbie wasn't sure about that but considering that her ancestors kept telling her it was so, she would work on it. There had to be something in the archives that would guide her. And she did have Grace's journal.

“I believe it will be imperative to your coming battles,” Isabeau said.

“I will try my best,” Abbie said. “But there's already a witch hanging around.”

“Only time will tell,” Isabeau said, a sparkle in her dark eyes.

Abbie had spent the past hour asking them all a millions questions and learning about things like time crystals and other, more powerful spells that could reset time. There were limits, they let her know, but certain things could be done if they all worked together.

“Captain Crane...” she started to ask only to be hushed into silence.

“We know the two Witnesses must be together at that specific point in time. We know how important this is to the world. And to you,” Emmeline Corbin said. She gently moved Abbie away from Isabeau and led her a door Abbie hadn't noticed before. “The clothes you were wearing when you ended up in this time are in there. You'll want to change, I'm sure.”

Abbie did want to change but she had more questions. She wanted to know about the Horseman's horse. What was going to happen to it? She wanted to know where in time the Horseman ended up. She tried to ask a few more questions but was told that it would be taken care of. Timing was everything but it would work.

She did have to know one thing, though. An important thing.

“If it's all set back correctly, Katrina will have their baby. People will die because of that,” she said. It wasn't a question but they all nodded their heads at the same time.

“Since we are trying to undo so much, we can't make tiny adjustments. It would take too much energy to do so,” Isabeau answered.

“Why will I remember?” Abbie asked.

“Because you are traveling not only slightly backward but then forward. It just works that way,” another woman answered. “Please remember, Abbie, that when you start to journey back, do not try to stop it no matter what you see or hear. It's important that you obey this.”

This made Abbie want to question even more. What would she see? What did they know?

“Abigail, it's time,” Emmeline said, holding up her hand to end the questions. “We all must do our final preparations. Including you.”

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Abbie closed the door behind her and fought the urge to cry. She wouldn't do that. Couldn't. Then she looked up and saw Crane waiting for her in the room. His uniform was neat and crisp again and he was standing with his hands clasped behind him, looking like the Captain once more.

That's when she couldn't fight the tears any longer. He reached her in just two strides and was holding her tight again.

“We will see each other soon,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

“Yes, we will,” she said, sniffling as she pulled away from him.

“We only have a few minutes. I needed to be able to say goodbye before whatever happens next,” Captain Crane said.

“I need to put on the clothes I was wearing when all this started,” Abbie said, motioning to the small stack of clothing piled up on a table.

“Do you want me to go?” he asked.

“No,” she said, reaching for him. “Help me out of this.”

His fingers nimbly unfastened the buttons and slid the dress from her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. She stepped out of the petticoat and kicked the flat shoes from her feet. He watched her as she dressed once more, putting on all her layers including her very modern bra and panties, a thong that left nothing to the imagination. Abbie was amused by his expression and once again wished they had more time. Sitting on a wobbly wooden chair, she pulled on her socks and boots and stood before him once more, back to being herself once more yet knowing she'd never be herself again.

With the last bit of charge her phone had left, she took a 'selfie' of the two of them together before tucking her dying phone in her pocket. Someday she might need that picture when she explained all of this to him. The look in his eyes in that one quick picture told everything. 

“I can't wait for whatever adventures you and I have in the future,” he said, reaching for her and pulling her into another hug.

“I'll tell you about all this someday. I promise,” she said.

“Only when the time is right, Abbie. When we're ready for this again,” he said. He kissed her gently and she knew it was silly, thinking of how much she was going to miss him. He was going to be there. But that wasn't going to be this Crane. This Crane was now her Crane.

Or maybe they both were?

Someone knocked at the door and Abbie didn't want to go but had to. She stood resolutely, looking from him to the door.

“You ready, Captain?” she asked before she slipped away, barely hearing him say 'ready, Lieutenant' before the door closed between them.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Some of the Sisters gathered around her, all dressed now in plain attire that matched Emmeline Corbin. Abbie looked closely at them, wondering if even one of them showed any fear. None did. She was impressed by that and resolved to show no fear, either.

They each drank a dark liquid from a silver common cup and passed it to the next. The rest of them had to be with Crane. A Sister brought her the cup and instructed for her to finish the liquid. Abbie did, swallowing the bitter tonic in one gulp, fighting the urge to sputter and cough.

Isabeau had a large text in her hands and opened it to the right place before she began reciting something in Latin. The other women all repeated after her and Abbie started to feel that pull again, like she had during the Abiero spell. But this time, she could sense something else. Crane was close by, in another room and they were sending him in the different direction. She could feel him being torn from her and she wanted to cry out to him. She could feel the gears of time cranking around. She swore she could almost hear them. 

And more.

The demons that hunted her and Crane down on this journey here were now circling the chateau en masse. Numbers too great to count were moving quickly toward the building, shifting form as they approached. The women had to remove the wards to amplify their power and now they were going to be attacked because of it. Because of her.

Abbie wanted to cry for them to stop but remembered that she had been told to not worry about this. It had to happen. They knew it was going to happen and they moved forward with this anyway.

It all started to swirl away from her but she could see fire. She could hear the screams of the others in the household. The women didn't stop. She looked at Isabeau who nodded her head at her and then... it was gone. The chateau and the Circle were all gone. The year 1781 was gone.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Abbie was back in that dusty room again, sprawled out on the floor. Crane was there... not her Captain Crane but her Crane... on the floor near her. And Katrina was right back there with them. She didn't know how the Sisters had managed it but there they all were, back in the right spot. In the right time. And someone was not happy about it.

She didn't come all this way for this witch to kill her now but Katrina had other ideas. Abbie was no longer on the floor but was struggling for each breath and then... then she was back on the ground and watching as Crane clutched his bleeding wife and they sank to the floor together. It was all happening so quickly. 

He had saved Abbie. He chose Abbie and saved her. Not Katrina. Finally, not Katrina. Maybe it was not necessarily a conscious decision but that was how it all played out in the end.

She watched the two of them, Crane in tears as Katrina still reached out for something she could never have. The knife clattered across the floor as he held her tight and Abbie could only watch from across the room.

And then Katrina was gone.

Abbie took a step toward Crane, wanting to sooth him, and she told him he didn't have a choice. But she knew that wasn't true. Every step they had taken together was filled with choices.

“Yes, I did,” he said, assuredly. “We all did.”

She watched as he collected his thoughts for several minutes. Watched as he picked up the Grand Grimoire but said nothing more. It wasn't long before Irving and Jenny were rushing in and Abbie was trying to explain everything that happened to her. In some other universe, they had gone through their own adventure but that had been wiped clean. So much had been wiped clean. She had so much to tell them all but she really wanted to get out of this place.

She left and soon realized Crane wasn't right behind her. Abbie told her sister and Irving to go on ahead and she turned around to get Crane. She found him staring into the room, the Grand Grimoire in hand, taking everything in one last time. This room where everything changed.

Everything.

“You ready, Captain?” she asked, smiling slightly at new memories created over the last few days. She nodded at him, knowing this was something only she remembered. Something of her own for now, until she was ready to share it with him. 

But then he smiled ever so slightly back at her, more of a smirk, really. Like he was already in on the secret, too. Then he nodded. Just a little tip of his head and still that smirk remained.

“Ready, Lieutenant.”

Suddenly, Abbie was frozen in place and finding it very hard to breathe.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Epilogue

“Crane.”

“They had told me there was a small chance I might remember,” Crane said, sounding rather sheepish. “The Sisters of the Circle. Once they found out I had an eidetic memory, it became a concern. They discussed it with me that day at length. There was no guarantee that it would go one way or the other.”

“Crane,” she said louder, briefly pinching the bridge of her nose before staring at him across the archives. 

“I was dead for so long and then I saw you and you didn't know me. I was certain none of it happened. I convinced myself that one of the last things that had happened to me was being struck down by the Hessian.”

“Crane,” she said once more. 

“Abbie, the Sisters told me that if I did remember, I couldn't tell you until now. Until this exact moment came about again. If I did, everything would unravel. It all had to go the same way. What was I going to say anyway? While I was in that holding cell that night we 'met'? Lieutenant Mills, we once were in 1781 together and were lovers for a day? You already had to have me committed. That would have made you do it so much faster. This all had to just progress on its own. You and I had to progress on our own. Beyond any of that, how long were you going to wait until you told me?" he asked. 

"Uh..."

"Exactly." 

He walked toward her, so confident and sure of himself. Sure of everything between them. She didn't know what she was feeling. She should be happy that this was how everything turned out. She didn't have to explain to him what had happened. They both knew. 

They knew and could work forward from here. He reached out to her and pulled her into a tight embrace. She could feel everything begin to melt inside of her like when they were together just yesterday. Or today. It was just today for her, back in a gardening shed. Today but hundreds of years ago. She could still feel her muscles ache where he had moved inside of her such a short time ago and it was so confusing. Too confusing. 

“I need to look for something,” she said, pulling away from him before he.. what? He had just killed his wife. Yes, to save her but still. He was going to need time. Maybe she needed a little time, too. 

“What?” he asked. 

“What happened to the Circle of Fortuna Redux?” she asked. “I have to know. I saw things, Crane. I have to know what happened to them.”

Crane walked right to one of the shelves and pulled out a few texts that were tucked away behind others. He came toward her, the one book opened, his finger tapping next to a small section on the history of Sleepy Hollow. There was a drawing of a young woman that Abbie recognized immediately as Emmeline Corbin. Crane had already considered this question and had already searched for the answer. 

“The chateau burned down in 1781. All were lost except... one Emmeline Corbin,” Abbie read, tears coming to her eyes. “She went on to start a family here in Sleepy Hollow, keeping her last name after she got married out of respect to the house she had lost.” 

“There's more. The history of the Corbin family. So much more.”

She couldn't deal with more right now and put the books aside and once again, Crane pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head as she cried. It was all too much. They had to have known that they were going to die and yet, they went forward anyway. And now this new connection. They really all were gears turning perfectly, working for a common goal. 

“You need sleep,” he said, cradling her head against his chest. “You should go home. I'm not quite ready to return to the cabin yet after... everything. I will get out my cot and sleep here then we can discuss this all further in the morning. We shall go to Starbucks. I'm sure you could use a cappuccino or maybe a heartier breakfast?”

“Crane?” Abbie asked, sniffling as her tears began to stop. 

“Yes?”

“When was the last time you had... you were with...”

She stopped. Maybe she didn't want to know what happened with his wife in the cabin. Maybe it was better if she didn't know. They were married. He wasn't able to tell anyone what he knew. He did love his wife and always did hope something could be repaired even when it was beyond repair. But curiosity got the better of Abbie. 

“I was with you, Lieutenant. A stone building in a garden. It was you,” he said. 

She stood back from him and straightened out his coat. She missed that blue coat of his. Missed the whole uniform. She was so happy she got to meet the person he once was but was also happy for the person he was becoming now. But he'd need to find a new blue coat. 

“Maybe your only options aren't just the cabin or here. Maybe there's another option. Maybe you can stay with me? I have a guest bedroom at my apartment if you'd be more comfortable there. Do you really want to sleep here again on that cot?” Abbie asked. 

He didn't answer and it was as if she lost him somewhere in her question. 

“Hmm?” he asked, trying to figure everything out, his jaw working slowly from side to side as he thought. 

“I'm asking you to come back to my place,” Abbie said. “No expectations of anything. Just. Come home. You ready to come home, Captain?”

“Oh, yes. That I am indeed ready for, Lieutenant.”

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And season three never happened!! Thank you for reading! Sorry for any time travel plot holes left behind! I was just trying to fix everything that went so horribly wrong after season two and explain why Crane always seemed to be so smitten with the Lieutenant from the first time they met. 
> 
> In its inception, this story was supposed to be far more complicated and change from what was happening in the present to what was happening in the past but I figured we're all just here for the Ichabbie. Including me. Also, I stole the title of this story from the title of the book AU Crane wrote in the chapter of 'Winter Dreams' called 'Rosebury.' Because it's all AU now!


End file.
